Locked In
by Disasteriffic Kaz
Summary: Thanks to a witch's curse, Sam has nothing but time on his hands and nothing to entertain him but his own thoughts. Post 7x07 "The Mentalists" hurt/limp!Sam comfort/awesome!Dean


**Title:** Locked In

**Author:** Disasteriffic Kaz

**Info:** Thanks to a witch's curse, Sam has nothing but time on his hands and nothing to entertain him but his own thoughts. Post 7x07 "The Mentalists" hurt!Sam comfort/awesome!Dean

**Author's Note:** Yep. Yet ANOTHER story born from a piece of a scene I wrote down months ago and forgot about. :P

_**This story is un-Beta'd**__. All mistakes are my own._

_**Follow me on Facebook as "Disasteriffic Kaz" for frequent fic updates or just to chat!__**  
**_**_~Reviews are Love~_**

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Sam stared at the ceiling above his bed. He followed the spider web of cracks with his eyes to a small stain in the corner. Leak in the roof, he surmised and wondered if the cheap motel would even bother fixing it. He could do it in an hour, Sam thought…if only he could move. Dean came into his line of sight again and smiled down at him.

"Hey, Sammy. Twelve more hours or so and you'll be walkin' and talkin' again." Dean patted his shoulder and then palmed his forehead worriedly. "I'm gonna go get some ice and stuff. I'll be back in twenty minutes. Promise."

Sam wanted to tell him it was alright and take some of the fear from his big brother's eyes but of course, he couldn't. The last time they'd seen this particular curse, the witch who'd used it had done so to save their lives from a leviathan. He'd enjoyed it at the time, relieved to have a harmless leviathan even if only for a few days. It wasn't so funny on the receiving end of the curse. Sam wished he'd ducked faster. If only he hadn't turned his back at the wrong moment, if he hadn't let the witch's twisted disciple stab him…Sam focused his thoughts back on the spot on the ceiling. Thinking of the wound in his side only made it hurt more and he couldn't do anything about it; couldn't even ask for something for the pain. He wanted to groan, or moan or scream. Sam sighed. His breathing and blinking were the only things he did have control of now and had only regained the ability to open and close his eyes in the last day.

The now familiar panic worked its way into Sam, spinning his thoughts away in a whirlwind because what if this didn't fade? What if he was stuck this way forever? Sam closed his eyes and made himself take a deep breath and then another, trying to find his calm again. He could blink again, Sam reminded himself and that meant the curse was finally weakening and would continue to.

'_I'm not trapped.'_ Sam said in the confines of his mind. _'I'm safe. This will pass.'_

"Hey, buddy. Take it easy."

Sam wrenched his eyes open with Dean's voice and realized he must have been thinking far too hard for far too long. He focused on Dean's concerned green eyes and let his breathing slow.

"That's better. I'm gonna sit you up a little here." Dean told him calmly and Sam inwardly cheered.

He'd gotten tired of looking at the crack in the ceiling. Sam's eyes slowly tracked Dean moving away again and then back. He felt like an infant when Dean pried his mouth open and felt two tablets land on his tongue then his big brother wrapped a hand around the back of his head, tipping it for him and put a water bottle to his lips, letting a small amount trickle in before closing Sam's mouth.

"All you gotta do is swallow." Dean coached gently.

Sam felt Dean rubbing a hand on his throat, trying to convince his body to do what it needed and a moment later he did swallow. Sam exhaled noisily with relief and took comfort in the hand Dean kept on the back of his neck. Dean had tried to give him a drink the day before but Sam had still had no control and it had come close to choking him. His only consolation was the understanding fear on Dean's face as his brother had held him up until his breathing eased.

"That went better than last time." Dean smirked and reached to his bed, taking the pillow and shoved it behind Sam's back to prop him up. "Painkillers. How good's your blinking now?"

Sam watched Dean's eyes and blinked slowly twice in response.

"Nice. So, we're gonna Star Trek this. One blink for yes and two for no." Dean grinned. "Still in pain?" He nodded when Sam blinked once. "I figured. You're running a fever, you feel that?" He frowned when Sam blinked twice. "Well, it's there. Hang on."

Sam oh so slowly managed to roll his eyes at that; as if he was going to go somewhere. He let his eyes roam the room until Dean reappeared and curved his hand around Sam's head again. Sam blinked once when Dean held up a thermometer and tried not to feel ridiculous that he couldn't even open his mouth for that on his own as Dean tugged his jaw open again and slid the thermometer in place. At the same time, he could see that Dean was somehow settled by taking care of him; even though Sam had been unable to do anything for two days now. Sam would have smiled if he could and made Dean roll his eyes. Dean enjoyed being the big brother and for once could take care of him without Sam nagging and complaining or fighting him.

Dean pulled the thermometer out, looked at it and frowned. "Can't believe you can't feel this."

Sam blinked several times, trying to ask how high it was and wished he could scowl at Dean.

"I can see the bitch-face without you movin' a muscle, Sammy." Dean said and grinned as he set the thermometer aside but Sam could easily read the worry behind the smile. "It's pushing a 105, dude. Gotta get that down 'cause I do not wanna have to try and explain to a bunch of ER docs why my little brother's temporarily paralyzed."

Sam closed his eyes while Dean got up and went into the bathroom. He heard the faucets begin to run in the tub and sighed softly. Cold baths; not his favorite thing ever. He looked around the room to find something else to concentrate on than the imminent moment where he had to let his big brother strip him and put him in a tub of cold water. Sam saw a pen under the edge of the microwave. It was silver with a thick barrel and rubber grip near the point that some former tenant of the room had left behind; forgotten. He knew that pen, or rather that brand. They were heavy, comfortable in your hand and wrote so smoothly. He'd had one in college; Jess had bought it for him when he'd aced his first round of exams.

Sam felt his breath shudder for a moment as the image of her face came clear. It had been a long time since he'd really allowed himself to think about her and the life he'd almost had. Even after so many years, he could still remember her face and that little mole she'd always been self-conscious about. He'd spent hours trying to show her how beautiful he thought she was; all of her.

"Ok, dude." Dean said as he came back out of the bathroom and sat beside his brother. "Let's…hey. You ok, Sammy?"

Sam let his eyes roll up to meet Dean's when his brother brushed a thumb over his cheek and Sam felt the moisture that came with it. He blinked once and was mortified that he'd been caught crying and not even realized.

"This will wear off, Sam. I promise." Dean said firmly, thinking that was what he was upset out but Sam blinked twice. "Not the paralysis?" Dean shook his head. "Alright, we'll talk about it later. Bath time." He smirked as he started unbuckling his brothers' belt. "This was a lot less awkward when you were three feet tall, man."

Sam looked back at the pen and felt a flush crawl up his neck while Dean tugged his jeans off and then pulled him forward to get his shirts off. At least Dean left him with his boxer briefs. He'd rather be a little uncomfortable in the tub than stark naked in front of his brother. It was strange; as Dean pulled his shirts off over his head, Sam could suddenly feel the sweat-soaked material and the air swirling in cool drafts over his damp skin. He really was running a fever.

"Going up and no puking down my back, dude." Dean told him with a smirk and pulled Sam over his shoulder with a grunt of effort as he stood.

Sam felt like a sack of potatoes, staring down Dean's back at the floor with his arms swaying. It was dizzying with the movement and then Dean was bending and Sam felt his feet slide into cold water. His body shuddered reflexively as Dean stood and held him up with an arm around his shoulders.

"I know it's cold. Easy, little brother." Dean eased Sam down into the water with the ice cubes that hadn't melted yet clicking against the enamel.

Sam's body shuddered again and even though it was damn cold, it was a relief to know his body could still react to outside stimuli. His breath caught in his throat as the icy water closed over his chest.

"Ok, no drowning." Dean snorted as Sam's body started to slide further down into the water up to his chin. He pushed him back up and kept his arm over his chest to hold him in place while his head lolled to the side. "Ten minutes and then I'll get you dry."

Sam wanted to pick his head up but resigned himself to looking at Dean's knee and the toilet instead. His eyes traced the years of grime on the outside of the tank and landed on a little drawing near the back of the tank. He stared at it, trying to make it out and smiled inwardly when he did. It was done in what looked like crayon and was of two people holding hands. Some child had, at some point in the past, drawn it there and it had survived all this time. That made his skin crawl a little, that no one had managed to actually clean it made him wonder what was hiding in the rest of the room. Sam looked at the little stick figures and remembered when they were kids.

Sam had been horribly bored in some non-descript motel room somewhere with Dad on a hunt and Dean had gone out to hustle some money somewhere. He remembered thinking that at twelve years old he should have been old enough to go hunt with Dad. Dean had been livid to be left behind and Sam, in a fit of irritation over being treated like a child had decided to be one. He'd dug through his bag for the few crayons he had there and gone to work. By the time Dean had returned, Sam had covered the wall above his bed with stick figures and monsters, Dean and their Dad slaying the monsters and had started writing out all the elements of the periodic table in sheer boredom. Sam wished he could smile at the memory of Dean's shout when he'd come back and then the laughter that had followed. Sam had fully expected Dean to make him clean the wall but instead, his big brother had grabbed a crayon and started correcting his drawing of a bloody bones. They had created a mural together that had left their Dad standing in shock when he'd gotten back. Dad hadn't made them clean it. Instead, he'd taken a picture as they left. Sam wondered whatever happened to that picture; if it was lying forgotten in a box somewhere.

"You ok, Sam?" Dean picked his brother's head up with his free hand and looked into damp eyes.

Sam blinked once to reassure him. He really was fine, except for the whole not being able to move thing. He was also suddenly starving and that realization was all the more glaring as he hadn't felt hunger or anything else for two days. His stomach chose that moment to grumble and Dean laughed.

"Guess your stomach's wakin' up before the rest of you." Dean grinned with relief and propped Sam's head against the wall. He reached down the other end of the tub and flipped the lever, letting the water start to drain. "Gotta be boring as hell stuck in your own head for three days."

Sam blinked once. He'd nothing but the company of his own thoughts and while sometimes that was alright, there were other times it was a curse. The bad memories in his head could roll up to swallow him with no warning and there was nothing he could do to protect himself; no running or squeezing the scar on his left hand or grabbing on to Dean with a plea to help pull him out. Just the thinking of those thoughts seemed to be enough to pull the devil out of wherever he'd been hiding for the last half day. Sam would have flinched if he had the muscle control the second the soft laughter started from the other side of the bathroom.

"Get you dried off and back into bed." Dean bent over his brother to check the stitched wound in his side.

Sam focused on the pressure of Dean's fingers around the wound and silently begged him to push harder; to cause him pain. Please, please, please Sam chanted silently but Dean was as careful as he always was; never causing Sam unnecessary pain.

"What's wrong, Sammy? Cat still got your tongue?" Lucifer came into view, leaning over Dean's shoulder to grin down at him. "We used to have so much fun with you paralyzed. Remember? All those times you had nothing to focus on but me." The devil sighed wistfully and reached out to brush his fingers through Sam's hair.

Sam did remember. He remembered being tied to a rack and Lucifer slipping behind him, a sharp pain in the back of his neck and the horrid realization that he could no longer move. He remembered how the devil had left him the ability to feel pain and how he had gleefully inflicted it upon him and the only thought that Sam had been able to hold on to through all of it had been a word; Dean.

"We could try that game again." Lucifer smiled. "I bet you still remember how to scream pretty for me."

"Sam." Dean's sharp voice drew Sam's eyes to his shakily.

Sam realized Dean had pulled him up and was holding him with one arm behind his back and the other hand curved around his jaw.

"I need you to slow this down for me, kiddo." Dean said calmly, feeling the harsh breaths punching in and out of Sam's chest and his heart pounding under his arm at his back. He watched Sam's eyes for a moment and seemed to somehow understand.

Sam blinked furiously as Dean released his head to pick up his left hand, hold it where Sam could see it and dug his thumb into the palm. The pain was instant and real and the devil over Dean's shoulder flickered out of sight.

"That's it. Slow and even, Sammy." Dean set his brother's hand aside and took his face again. "He gone?" Sam's single, grateful blink made him smile.

Sam's breath hitched in his chest again while Dean pulled a towel down and started drying him now that the water had drained away. He took comfort in the rough feel of the towel and Dean's presence. He didn't even mind when Dean put the thermometer in his mouth again.

Dean smiled when he checked Sam's temperature and set the thermometer aside. "102. Much better. I've got antibiotics for you but I don't wanna give 'em to you until you can actually eat something." He wrapped the towel around Sam's torso after drying his legs in the tub. "Ok, going up, princess."

Sam saw his brother's grin and rolled his eyes when Dean pulled him into his chest and slid an arm under his knees; lifting him like a damn bride out of the tub. Sam wanted to laugh when Dean staggered under his weight as he carried him back out and laid him in his bed.

"Soulless douchebag liked workin' out a little too much, dude." Dean rolled his eyes while he straightened Sam's arms and legs. "You weigh a damn ton now." He pulled the blanket up over Sam's chest and pushed the damp hair out of his eyes for him. "How you doin'?"

Sam gave him another single blink and closed his eyes.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Dean said loudly.

Sam opened his eyes and watched Dean lift his hand up.

"Check it out, dude!"

Sam looked at his hand and watched the fingers twitch. This time he felt the tears well in his eyes and run over his cheeks.

"Ok. Take it easy." Dean said but he smiled with understanding and laid Sam's arm back. He got up and sat next to his brother against the wall. Dean tugged and shifted until he had Sam turned slightly into him with his forehead resting against his neck. "Blink, Sam." He felt Sam's lashes flutter on his skin and smiled. "Ok. You need something, you blink and I'll know." Dean grabbed the remote and turned the tv on. He'd moved it so they could both see it like this. He put Sam's twitching hand on his knee and relaxed. "You ever make one single joke about 'eskimo kisses' and I will murder you in your sleep. You hear me?"

Sam blinked once, brushing his lashes against Dean's neck as a few more tears traced down his face and into his brother's shirt. He blinked again several times until Dean tipped his head back so he could see him.

"What?" Dean asked with concern and stared into Sam's wet, blue-green eyes. After a moment, Dean rolled his own eyes and pushed Sam's head back into his neck while he laughed softly because the gratitude was practically screaming out at him. "Can't believe it. You can't move. You can't even talk and you STILL manage to catch me in a damn chick-flick moment. Yes, you're welcome now shut up and watch the movie."

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_The End. _


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